


mi casa es su casa

by Qitana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, im sorry about the title, keith's just like, lance being lance aka adorably annoying dork, lots of introspection, meteor showers, reckless use of zero gravity, slowly realizing just how gay you are for a fellow paladin, theres so much blushing, why am i so gay for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qitana/pseuds/Qitana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you wanna do something fun?"</p><p>The room's dark save for the faint glow of the panels that line Keith's walls, and with its help he spots Lance kneeling beside his bed, eyes shimmering like the millions of stars that wink at them as they travel to universes they never knew existed.</p><p>Keith massages his temple, trying to will away the Lance induced headache. "Please, <i>please</i> tell me you didn't just wake me up at ass o'clock in the morning to go on a play date with you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	mi casa es su casa

**Author's Note:**

> I knew I was gonna ship Klance before i even saw the show and here I am, shipping klance. It's my first voltron fic so please go easy on me ? 
> 
> [you're gonna need this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGf_6xmjU3o). it's their anthem, the official klance anthem. 
> 
> contains light cursing but that's about as nsfw as this thing gets.
> 
> and the title is pretty much all the spanish i know so there's that.

Keith wakes up to the sight of Lance sprawled across his floor, a drool stain on his pillow, his hair mussed up and his breathing even. He looks peaceful, and it occurs to Keith that he actually kinda _likes_ Lance when he's asleep like this, because that means he isn't talking, which means he isn't spewing bullshit, which means there's silence and silence is Keith's middle name. (He doesn't actually have one but if he did, it would probably be the Korean word for silence)

It's been almost a week since Lance moved into his room. Why? Because there was a malfunction in the circuits controlling his, and Coran's too busy upgrading the castle/ship's defences and the particle barrier to fix it at the moment. Lance had come up with a perfectly logical explanation as to why he'd chosen Keith and not any of the other paladins- Pidge for obvious reasons, Hunk because his sleeping habits were weird and kinda aggressive and Lance was sure he'd end up as a human pancake and Shiro because he was the captain and he had enough on his plate and Lance didn't want to burden him with his presence. 

It took a lot of convincing and the promise of Lance owing him _BIG_ time for Keith to let the idiot enter his room and invade his space. Lance was nicer than usual for two days before he reverted back to his usual cocky, moronic self. Keith wasn't surprised- in fact, forty eight hours in and of itself was impressive. 

Keith groans softly as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blinking against the light pouring into his room from the neon blue panels, he yawns and pulls his blanket off, placing one foot before gingerly lowering the other on the freezing cold ground. A jolt of worry rushes through him when he realises Lance has been sleeping on this frigid surface for days, but then the olive skinned male snorts and shifts a little, still fast asleep. Keith rolls his eyes, realising his worry is wasted on someone as thick skinned as Lance. 

He goes about his morning routine at a leisurely pace, and it doesn't even surprise him anymore when Lance walks in a few moments later, yawning widely and scratching at his stomach. Keith can see a strip of dusky skin that covers chiseled hipbones and the slight fluttering of his stomach is unwelcome. Lance mumbles out an incoherent _Good Morning_ before reaching for his brush and squirting some of that herbal goo that's the space equivalent of toothpaste on it. They brush together, making weird faces at each other through the mirror before spitting and rinsing. Keith walks out and Lance shuts the door behind him. 

It's almost as if Lance has this inbuilt sensor that's attuned to Keith. It's unnerving how in sync they are, how they just _flow_ so naturally. Keith loves being alone, appreciates the solitude and the silence and the ability to hear his own thoughts. And in a mere week, Lance had stumbled into his haven and made himself a part of it. He's now integrated into Keith's schedule, Keith's routine, in Keith's mornings and nights whether he likes to admit it or not. 

_That bastard_ , Keith thinks bitterly, changing into his training gear in quick jerky movements. He walks out the door briskly and heads straight to the training area. He needs to blow off some steam and calm himself down, and he needs to do it _now_. 

An hour and a half later, Keith calls off the gladiator and unceremoniously slumps to the floor, thoroughly exhausted. He's getting a hang of level 3, getting a hang of the damn thing's movements and range and speed. It's not easy, but he's seeking a challenge anyway so it suits him fine. 

Pushing off the ground after a three minute break, Keith shuts down the arena before making his way to breakfast. He needs his fuel for the day so he can train normally with the team. He desperately hopes Hunk's on duty. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Turns out Hunk _is_ on duty and the meal is as delicious as a glob of green goo can be, which is a lot more than one would assume. Lance is seated next to him and he's joking around with Hunk and Pidge in that boisterous, noisy way of his, but what surprises Keith is that he's _used_ to it now. With almost 24 hour exposure to his stupid anecdotes , Keith's finally gotten used to his ways, at least most of them, and the thought scares the crap out of him. 

It's not like him to just _get used_ to someone. 

Training that day is especially taxing since they practise meditation and letting the other paladins in their mind space. It's funny how something purely mental is more exhausting than their physical training, but it is and when they finally call it a day, the entire group, save for Shiro, sway a little in their spot looking dizzy. Lance just outright falls on his back, curling up to assume a fetal position. He even sticks his thumb in his mouth and Keith hates how cute he is in that dorky, _Lance_ kinda way. 

_Ugh, I hope my gay isn't showing_ , Keith thinks. 

Judging by the cheeky grin on Pidge's face, he isn't hiding it all that well. 

When they finally go to bed that night, dragging their aching bones and sore muscles under warm, fresh sheets, Keith feels the loving, welcome embrace of sleep envelop him in a warm hug, and somewhere in the back of his subconscious, right before he's transported to the other world, he thinks he hears Lance's voice whisper out a soft _I don't tell you this enough, but uh, thanks for letting me stay here_. 

He's sure it's his mind playing tricks on him- he has a wonderfully vivid imagination -and yet the phrase echoes and bounces around his cranium, playing itself over and over in that same, hushed tone it's said in. 

It's.... nice. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

"How long has it even been?" 

Keith looks up from the book he's reading, eyes roving over Lance's form. He's sitting on a mat placed on the floor, back lined up against Keith's bed, a device of sort in his hands. He's fidgeting around with its screws, and Keith waits for him to elaborate but when he doesn't, he makes a guess. 

"How long since you barged into my room and became an even _larger_ pain in my ass?"

Lance hums noncommittally.

"Around 2 weeks, I think?" Two weeks, three days, sixteen hours and eighteen seconds, not that Keith's keeping track of course. "Shouldn't you be the one that knows?"

"Well, I'm the one that decided to grace you with my _amazing_ presence so-"

"The days all blur into one painful mess when I'm with you so it's hard to say for me either." The days are blurring together but it's not necessarily painful. Keith's scared to admit it's _anything_ but. 

Lance sticks his tongue out at him like the mature teen he is before shifting his attention to the metal box in his hand. "Two weeks huh? Feels both longer and shorter." 

_Feels pretty nice_ , Keith wants to say. 

"Feels way too long," is what he says instead. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The ache in his shoulder rouses Keith from slumber, and when his mind snaps back to reality, he's aware of someone constantly jabbing at his collar bone. He wants to go back to sleep so he pulls his hand out from under his blankets and moves to shove the source of the pain away when he finally hears him. 

"Keith? Keith, you awake? Come on, wake up." 

If it had been Pidge or Hunk or Shiro or the princess or anyone but Lance, Keith's sure he would've promptly turned around and dozed off. But _it is_ Lance, and his stupid voice is freakishly close and kinda breathy and there's goose bumps erupting down the line of Keith's neck and- 

Keith bolts up and just narrowly misses headbutting Lance into a concussion. _Shame_ , he thinks.

"What the hell? Why are you waking me up so la-" 

"Do you wanna do something fun?" 

The room's dark save for the faint glow of the panels that line Keith's walls, and with its help he spots Lance kneeling beside his bed, eyes shimmering like the millions of stars that wink at them as they travel to universes they never knew existed. 

Keith massages his temple, trying to will away the Lance induced headache. "Please, _please_ tell me you didn't just wake me up at ass o'clock in the morning to go on a play date with you." 

There's a pout on Lance's lips and it looks unfairly kissable in Keith's opinion, so he looks down, staring at his own clenched hands. 

"Keith."

"What?"

Lance remains silent so Keith looks up and starts a little when he's met with eyes nearly shining in the dim lighting of the room. 

"Do you trust me?" 

And that's the thing- Keith _does_. Sure, he's stronger than Lance, and _way_ smarter than him, and probably a lot more capable at most things, but if someone asked him to entrust his life to Lance, he would in a heartbeat. The revelation is earth shattering, but Keith doesn't have the time to sit around and have an existential crises, not when Lance is looking at him with an intensity that's causing heat to erupt in the depths of his gut, spreading everywhere, licking his insides with flames that burn in the best way possible. 

Keith chews on his lip and looks away, "Yes." 

Lance releases a relieved breath and a hand encircles Keith's wrist, tugging insistently. "Good. Come with me." 

_Something_ inside him, something Keith can't really name, makes him follow Lance out the room and down the dimly lit corridors. They're barefooted and in their pajamas and jogging down the long halls of a ten thousand year old castle in outer space, and all Keith can focus on is the warmth of Lance's palm, the slightly clammy grip the only indication of the idiot's nervousness. Keith smiles to himself, finding it a tad bit endearing. It's gross, obviously, but maybe just a tiny bit cute as well. 

They walk for a few more seconds before Lance comes to an abrupt halt and Keith nearly runs into him, feet stumbling a little. 

"Whoa, warn me you idio-"

Lance turns to face him, that same excited grin stretching his lips over shiny white teeth, "We're here." 

His enthusiasm is infectious and Keith allows himself a private smile, watching as Lance punches in a code and the doors slide open with a soft _hiss_. He yanks Keith into the room and they turn to watch the door shut behind them before the room slowly lights itself up. It looks like a regular training room, except there's a control panel in the middle, placed on a podium. Lance rushes over to it and lets his fingers dance over the keys, tongue sticking out in concentration the same way it does when he works on that box of his. 

It's not adorable, not at all. 

"Ok, you ready?" Lance hollers from the podium. 

Keith stares at him wearily. "For what?" 

Lance's grin turns one hundred percent mischievous. "For this." 

He smashes one of the buttons dramatically and Keith's stomach drops immediately as his feet leave the ground and he's airborne, rising and floating aimlessly within the confines of the room.

Keith's experienced zero-gravity before, pretty much everyone in their line of work has, though there's this child like glee that threatens to bubble out of him from the mere sensations of being mid air. He chokes them down and throws Lance an unimpressed look.

"What's so great about this? We did it all the time at the academy right?"

Lance laughs, that full body laugh that starts deep in his throat and crinkles his eyes and gives him a dimple. "Yeah, well, the instructors there had this perpetual stick up their asses, so zero-gravity was boring. But this Keith? This is, this isn't training! This is just zero-gravity for fun! Oh man, my five year old self would be _so_ jealous of me right now." 

Keith sniggers and tries to hide it with a cough, but he has a feeling Lance heard him anyway. His smile doesn't waver as he kicks off the wall he's closest too and slices through the air, zooming past Keith. Keith turns to locate a wall within reach and kicks at it hard, racing after Lance, a laugh caught in his throat as the two of them try to out pace each other. 

The competitiveness is familiar, the urge to want to press himself closer to Lance is not. 

They give up on racing each other after a few moments (Keith obviously wins) and Lance begins to practise his backstroke while Keith decides to simply shut his eyes and lay spread eagle, front facing the ceiling. For but a moment, he allows his mind to shut down and go blank as he focuses on nothing but the sounds, and the sensations and the constant tumbling of his gut. _This is what it means to fly_ , he thinks dreamily, sighing in content. There's no weight on his shoulders, no unnecessary thoughts, no pain, nothing- just a calm, dark emptiness that envelops his entire being. 

"Keith?" 

Lance's voice is a warm, husky whisper, and the tranquility of the room remains as Keith pries his eyelids open, turning to stare at Lance. "Yeah?" 

Lance waves a remote in front of him, "I'm gonna turn it off now." 

Keith nods and adjusts his position to best break his fall without breaking any limbs. Lance thumbs at the giant red button before pressing it gently and they both tense, eyes squeezed shut as they prepare for the pain, but nothing happens. 

"Huh?" 

Lance begins to repeatedly push the button and nothing happens. 

"Lance," Keith murmurs, voice laced with an unspoken threat. 

Lance looks up at him, finger still pushing the button at a near continuous pace. "It's not working," he declares, and Keith really wants to throw a wrench at him.

"Idiot! How the hell are we supposed to get down?" 

"It's not my fault," Lance yells back, face red. "I'm trying and it's not wor-" 

The descent is sudden and messy and ungraceful. Their fall is broken by the soft mats beneath the surface of the floor but a jolt of pain shoots up their legs anyway. Lance curses colourfully while Keith slowly gets to his feet, biting back tiny whimpers of pain. He's going to be sore tomorrow for sure. 

They look at each other for a long moment before muttering together, "I won't tell if you don't."

Then they smile at each other and for a tic Keith forgets he's supposed to _not_ like this guy and that he's not supposed to think of his smile as so attractive and that his heart is not supposed to skip multiple beats. 

But it all happens anyway. 

The walk back is more like a waddle back, but Keith doesn't regret it. He still feels lighter somehow, not physically but in his mind and a little in his heart. He hopes Lance's smile has nothing to do with him feeling happier and maybe a little giddy. 

It does. And he knows it. 

"That was fun," Lance mumbles as they enter Keith's room, flashing him a lazy grin. Keith's heart does this embarrassing tap dance in his chest and he presses a fist over it, _willing_ it to calm down. It doesn't work, but it's too dim for Lance to see the blush on his cheeks anyway. 

Keith turns to face his bed, looking between the bunk and the set up on the floor and it hits him just how uncomfortable the floor must be. Lance seems more tired during the day too, and even though there's no reason for him to feel this way, Keith feels guilty. 

"Lance..." 

Lance drops to his knees on the bed and starts crawling under the sheets, stopping midway to turn up and stare at him. "Yeah?" His eyes burn bright in the dim light and Keith swallows thickly, losing his nerve. 

"Nothing," he squeaks, diving into bed and under his warm covers. Lance mutters a _Whatever_ before getting comfortable, and just as he's about to fall asleep, Keith hears a soft, almost hesitant _Good Night Red_. 

He replies with a sleepy _Good Night Blue_ , though he can't be sure if he said it out loud or in his mind. He just hopes it reaches the blue paladin. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

It occurs to Keith, one month and three days into this strange arrangement with Lance, that Lance is a very touchy person. 

But his touchiness isn't something that happens immediately. Of course Keith's seen Lance drape his entire body over Hunk and Pidge, leaning his weight into them or basically throwing himself at them all the time, but the true magnitude of just how touchy he is doesn't hit Keith till Lance is touching _him_ the same way. 

It starts small, with shoulder nudges that turn to shoulders being pressed together all the time, a hand wrapped around his wrist to catch his attention turning into a hand looped through his to engage him in conversation, a noogie turning into a playful ruffle of hair accompanied by laughter and a promise for revenge. 

Keith's not one to touch others a lot. Sure, he's gotten a lot more comfortable around the paladins, and he trusts them explicitly, but he's a pretty private person on the whole. He doesn't like people invading his space, and it takes a lot for him to let people in, to be fully comfortable, open and vulnerable around them. 

Which is why it shocks, annoys and irritates Keith when he forgives Lance for all the uninvited touching. What's _worse_ is that he looks forward to it one hundred percent, looks forward to the warm touches on the back of his elbows, Lance's back pressed to his side when they're on the couch, fingers pushing through the mullet on his head and commenting on how stupidly soft it is. He likes it, looks forward to it, finds himself craving it. 

Which is why it's no surprise when Lance bounds into the common room one day and throws himself on the couch before swinging his legs up and resting his head on Keith's lap like it's the most natural thing to do. Keith stiffens for all of two seconds before giving in, his one hand holding his book up, the other resting on Lance's head, absentmindedly playing with the short strands of hair. 

"Keith, I'm so _bored_." 

Keiths hums, going back to his book. "Then why don't you train or something? You're still so weak." 

He _hears_ more than sees the eye roll, accompanied by a _Don't be a dick_.

They sit in silence for a while before Lance speaks up again, "What're you reading?" 

"An English to Altesian book." 

Lance grimaces, face scrunching up in obvious disgust and Keith can't help reach out and pinch his nose gently. Lance yelps and bats his hand away. 

"Ok, fine, wake me up when you're done being boring and we'll hit the arena together. I'm in the mood to kick your ass." 

Keith smirks at him, smacking him on the forehead with the book. "Just shut up and sleep. After all, the only time you can beat me is in your dreams." 

Lance simply huffs before burying his face in Keith's stomach, snuggling into him. _Hot_ , Keith thinks. Lance's always so warm, like a space heater, and Keith blames Lance's body heat for the warmth spreading across his cheeks. There's no other explanation obviously. While he's at it, he also blames Lance's heat for the thundering of his heart and the sweatiness of his palms. 

Acknowledging the alternative is too scary. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

The first time it happens, Keith panics and stays absolutely still for an entire _three minutes_ , barely breathing, heart in his throat, hands clenched into tight fists while his nails dig crescents into his palms.

Lance has always been a noisy sleeper. He snores and he snorts, he shuffles around till he finds a comfortable position and Keith's even heard his sleepy mumbles of _Nachos_ and _Burritos_. 

But _this_? Lance _whimpering_ pathetically and calling for his mom and thrashing around in bed? _This_ is new. 

It frightens Keith at first- he thinks it's a joke, a sick prank Lance's playing for the heck of it. But the twist in his gut tells him it's real, that Lance is not faking it and that he's in pain, a lot of it. 

When Keith finally realises he has to do something, _anything_ really, he jumps out of bed and gets on all fours, crawling towards Lance, avoiding his long arms as they flay around him helplessly. Lance is still calling for his mother, and Keith's heart clenches at the sight of the tears streaking Lance's cheeks, jaw clenched and breath coming out in bursts. 

Moving to avoid another swing of his arms, Keith climbs into Lance's lap, pinning his hips down and grabbing his shoulders, shaking them vigorously. 

"Lance, come on, wake up Lance. Come back to this world, come back to me, come on-" 

He repeatedly pleads for Lance to wake up, and he almost slaps the man when Lance's eyes rip open and he sits up abruptly, panting and gasping for air. His eyes are glazed over and he just looks _through_ Keith, not recognizing his self proclaimed rival that's currently occupying his lap. Keith hates that, hates how completely out of it Lance is. 

"Hey," he says, cupping Lance's face and tilting his head till they're looking each other in the eye. The light is slowly starting to enter Lance's eyes and he stops shivering so much, but there's still this fear and this undiluted pain swirling in the depths of those irises, and Keith feels his own heart constrict. Everyone knew underneath that flirty, cocky, false bravado was an insecure man that missed Earth and his family immensely. To think a man as strong as Lance could be reduced to this made Keith's heart ache- he was used to seeing a different Lance, a Lance who'd earned his place as one of the paladins, a Lance that was silly and annoying and endearing in the most obnoxious way. 

Lance finally recognizes him but he doesn't say a word, just pulls Keith in real close and hugs him, arms wrapped firmly around Keith's midsection. He refuses to let go and when the first drop of moisture wets Keith's shirt he realises the olive-skinned man is crying again, and he lets him, because crying makes it better sometimes. His own hands move from Lance's face, one slips into the hairs on his nape, the other grips his shoulder. His fingers softly card through Lance's hair in soothing motions while keeping them both upright. 

They stay like that for what seems like hours. Keith's never held him so intimately before, never known that his hair smelled kinda nice and tickled his face in a pleasant way, never known that Lance's skin was quite this soft or his body quite this hard, never known that being depended on like this made him feel good, feel trusted and in some weird way, validated.

When Lance pulls away, Keith doesn't drop his hands immediately. They stare at each other till Lance averts his gaze and wipes his face on his sleeve. He looks kinda ashamed, like his manliness has been compromised because of what he just did and the urge to want to punch him twitches through Keith's fingers. He settles for flicking Lance's forehead instead. 

"There is nothing unmanly about crying when you're weak or in pain, especially-" he taps the side of his temple "-pain up here. We all have our bad days. This was just one of yours." 

Lance sucks in a deep breath and nods- slowly, _hesitantly_ -and Keith gives him a brief hug before pulling away. 

"You know," he starts awkwardly, searching for the right words to frame his offer without dying of embarrassment, "isn't the floor like, super uncomfortable?"

Lance's arms around his midsection tighten and he pinches Keith's hips, making him yelp. "They should stop calling you the red paladin and call you captain obvious instead cause that's exactly what you are, idiot," he grumbles, and Keith smiles in spite of everything because that's the Lance he knows and can deal with. That's the Lance whose stupid optimism and surprisingly serious words at times stabilises the team, and that's the Lance that everyone recognises as the blue paladin. 

"That's what you say when I offer to share the bed with you?" Ok, it's not the least embarrassing way to frame the question and Keith's face is burning as he says it, but the embarrassment is so worth it when he sees Lance's eyes widen until his words sink in and he blushes fifteen shades of red, mouth flapping like a goldfish. 

"I- you are- what- um, wait, in _what universe_ did you ask me that? You just criticised my sleeping arrangements, you never offered!" 

Keith shrugs, "I just did, didn't I?" 

Lance swallows and nods, chewing on his lower lip. He looks young and boyish, hair sticking up at odd angles and lids still sticky with sleep. But then he slumps forward, his head meeting Keith's shoulder with a muted _thud_ and Keith has to force his heart to beat steadily, not jump out of his chest and whip out some salsa moves. 

"Can I?" 

Keith blushes but doesn't snap at him. "I offered, didn't I? Idiot." 

He feels Lance smile into his skin and for a split second he thinks he feels Lance's lips pressing a kiss to his neck but there's no way, _absolutely_ none... right?

"O-ok, come on," Keith says, standing abruptly and yanking Lance up with him. "Let's go back to bed, you know Shiro's gonna plan another unforgiving routine tomorrow." 

Lance yawns and rubs the back of his neck, slowly working at the knots there. "True that." 

Keith crawls under the covers and scoots to the far corner by the wall and watches as Lance crawls in behind him, until the two of them are laying down side by side, staring at the ceiling. The comforter is far warmer than usual, Lance's body heat a pleasant change to the near frigid conditions of the castle. Keith resists the urge to curl into him, turning to face the wall instead. 

"Good night blue paladin," Keith says, a soft whisper that mingles with the silence of the night. (or whatever counts as night in outer space) 

He feels Lance still beside him before a warm breath caresses the skin on the back of his neck and a soft _Good night red paladin_ is whispered far too close to his ear. Repressing a shiver, Keith pulls the covers even higher and hides beneath them, trying to feel less overwhelmed and absurdly happy about the heat on his back. 

He fails, but something tells him Lance is just as happy to be here. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

It would be a bare faced lie to say Keith wasn't interested in that little device Lance always fiddled around with, and of late, he seemed even more invested in the damn thing. Keith never asked, his pride couldn't handle being even more curious about Lance to his face, and he had a feeling Lance wouldn't tell him anyway. 

So the day he finds out, and the way he finds out is nothing short of amusing. 

He's walking back towards the room after a long session with the gladiator, and he's thinking about how he's on the cusp of annihilating level 4. He assumes his senses have gotten sharper and his body seems to be in top shape mostly because he sleeps really well nowadays. Keith had never really shared a bed with anyone before Lance, and he always assumed it sucked to do so because they stole the sheets and hogged the bed space and breathed all over you. 

Lance did hog the bed space and he did steal the sheets. But the space he hogged resulted in Keith's back pressed against his front, and the sheets he was so selfish with he made up for by being generous with the absurd amount of heat radiating from his body. They never spoke about the way they cuddled, never spoke about how good it felt or how their heartbeats synced up just like their breathing before they drifted off into dreamless oblivion, but all Keith knew for damn sure was that he didn't want it to stop. For the sake of his fighting of course. 

Keith's a few feet away from his door when he hears a Lance like yell of _Holy shit!_

Sprinting those last few steps, he bursts into the room the moment the door slides open, eyes wide and stance ready for battle. "What is it? What's going on?" 

Lance looks up from the box to stare at him, eyes practically sparkling with excitement, lips quirked in a smile so broad Keith's surprised his face isn't torn. 

Lance gestures to the box in his hand, "It works!" 

Keith's brows knit in obvious confusion. "And what exactly is it?"

"This," Lance says, setting the device down before rummaging through his backpack, "is a cd player." 

"Holy- you mean, we can play music from Earth?" Keith squawks, eyes widening. 

Lance bobs his head. "Uh huh. Though-" he deflates a little before continuing, "we can only play the tracks Pidge got here, nothing new." 

"Sounds good to me," Keith admits because he's missed music a lot. He didn't have cd's of his own of course, but he has faint memories of music playing in the hazy background back when he was a kid on earth. 

"Music's always been a huge part of my family," Lance says, gazing at the cd's with a softness Keith only recently noticed he possessed. "So old or new, I've wanted to listen to it for a long, long time." 

He carefully pushes a cd in and presses play, and they both hold their breath. 

Then a drum solo floods the entire room and they laugh out loud, fist bumping each other. 

"I know this song!" Lance yells, slamming the device down on the desk, his eyes wild and uninhibited. 

He picks up an imaginary guitar and starts jamming away, head swaying to the music, smile half way between feral and over excited. He adjusts an imaginary mic and lip syncs the lyrics flawlessly. 

" _I fought it for a long time now_  
_While drowning in a river of denial_  
_I washed up, fixed up, picked up all my broken things."_

Keith slowly enters the room, trying to bite down a grin and failing miserably. Lance looks so carefree, so utterly immersed in his own imaginary concert that Keith can't help the laughter that bubbles out of him like soda fizz as he picks up a crumpled ball of paper and throws it at Lance. It hits him square on the face but he simply pouts before continuing with his concert. 

"' _Cause you left me, police tape, chalk line_  
_Tequila shots in the dark scene of the crime_  
_Suburban living with a feeling that I'm giving up_  
_Everything for you."_

Lance dips the mic and Keith taps his feet, losing himself to the beat of the music and the heat of the moment and the endorphins rushing through his body. They lock eyes and they're both too stubborn to look away. Plus Lance has really nice eyes and Keith finds that he _doesn't_ want to look away. In retrospect, breaking their gazes would've probably been a better option. 

" _Oh, oh, oh, how was I supposed to know_  
_That you were oh, oh, over me_  
_I think that I should go!_  
_Something's telling me to leave but I won't_  
_'Cause I'm damned if I do ya, damned if I don't._ " 

Lance winks at Keith and Keith wants to crawl under a rock and die because it isn't supposed to make his stomach turn but it does and _oh god_ , there's a blush crawling up his neck and Keith _really_ just wants to bang his head against a wall. Repeatedly. Till these feelings are quite literally beaten out of him. 

Lance continues to sing but Keith tunes him out, suddenly afraid. Of himself, of Lance, of his feelings. And when Lance jumps around in the same spot and throws his head back and yells, Keith realises that it should've bothered him- the noise, and his intruding presence and the cuddling and the _Good nights_ and the touching. 

It should've, but it doesn't. He's in too deep, getting sucked into this black hole where he can't control anything and he's so so scared. Because he's never fallen in love before. Because he never thought he'd fall in love so far from home. 

Because he never thought he'd fall so madly in love with Lance. 

Keith mutters something about wanting to strategise with Shiro and walks away the minute the song comes to an end, ignoring the hurt look on Lance's face. He needs to think, he needs to _breathe_ , he needs to fully accept this so he can move on. 

Because falling in love with someone never meant they'd feel the same way. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Claiming you're over someone is a lot easier said than done. Especially when that someone is around you all the time, sleeps in your bed, steals food off your plate, drapes themselves all over you, wishes you goodnight and looks at you sometimes with a tenderness that leaves you breathless. 

And Keith doesn't have it in him to ask Lance to stop. 

Their team work rises exponentially, and Keith loves how Voltron seems stronger than ever, but he knows the longer this goes on, the deeper he falls, and any deeper and he knows there's no coming back out. 

He's mulling over this in the common room when Lance suddenly barges in, attacking him from behind, wrapping his arms around Keith's chest and pushing his face into his cheek. 

"Get off," is Keith's automatic response, though he doesn't try to physically pry Lance off. Which he should, but his hands are trapped and Lance is warm and he smells of sunshine and-

"Listen," Lance whispers conspiratorially, "I want you to meet me near training room four. Say around an hour after we go to bed. I wont be coming back tonight, I'll meet you there." 

Keith pursues his lips, "Why?" 

"It's a surprise," Lance grins before untangling his limbs and bounding away, hollering a _Don't be late_ behind him. Keith flips him the bird and receives a snort for an answer. 

Two months, eight days, three hours and twenty one seconds. 

Now Keith fears when it's going to stop being a countdown for how long Lance is going to bother him to a stopwatch that determines when Lance is going to leave. He tries to go back to his book but after reading the same paragraph three different times he shuts it and sighs. 

He's already in too deep, and he doesn't know what to do anymore. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

An hour goes by both quickly and far too slowly. Keith spends most of it pacing his room, wondering what this surprise could really be. He wants to go to bed, he wants to possess the will power to stay behind and not give in yet again but every time he thinks of that stupidly happy grin and their easy banter, there's a smile on his face, and when the hour's up, he knows there was never an option to bail. 

The corridors are dim and lonely the way it had been the day they went to the zero-gravity chamber, but Keith knows his way around pretty well, so he doesn't have any problems finding Lance. He's standing there in his jacket, whistling softly, rolling on the balls of his feet. Keith sneaks up behind him and leans in as close as possible before muttering, "Boo~" 

Lance jumps three feet in the air and scrambles back, clutching his ear. He stares at Keith with wide eyes and Keith doubles over, shaking with laughter. He misses the blush that decorates Lance's face, but looks up just in time to catch him pouting. 

"That was unfair! You cheated!" 

"And how exactly," Keith muses, shrugging, "did I cheat?"

"You- I- you just cheated ok! Now come on." He grabs Keith's sleeve and starts pulling him deeper into the ship, "we gotta go, it's supposed to start soon." 

"What's supposed to start soon?" 

Lance just flashes him a grin over his shoulder and Keith lowers his head, hoping it'll hide his flaming cheeks till he can calm down. He hates how flustered he gets around Lance, and he hates it even more when he doesn't seem to affect Lance the same way. 

They walk for what seems like forever, though Lance's grip on his sleeve turns into Lance's grip on his wrist. It's warm, it's always so so warm, and Keith just wants to lace their fingers together and walk beside him rather than slightly behind him. He's still curious about the surprise, but at the same time he keeps hoping that it's a little further away, just a little further, maybe a little more. 

When they do reach it, if it weren't for how amazing the place looked, he probably would've cribbed more about the loss of Lance's hand on his. 

The room looks a lot like Allura's control room, with a glass ceiling exposing the outside but there's no breaks in the glass, there's no metal, nothing. It's just a gigantic glass dome, and the view outside is utterly breathtaking. Keith wanders closer to it but stops when a bright colour catches his eye. There's a blanket on the floor, a baby blue one that looks soft and comfy. 

"Ok, ok come here!" Lance says, sitting on the blanket and patting the floor next to him. Keith eyes him with mock suspicion before taking a seat, and Lance is still grinning at him and _oh god_ , he needs to look away before he does something rash like kiss him on those full lips that are cherry red and slightly slick oh gosh-

"So," Lance starts, oblivious (as always) to Keith's existential crises, "I was talking to Coran today and he said there should be a meteor shower tonight! So I thought you'd want to see it." 

Keith blinks in surprise, slowly lifting an eyebrow. "What about the rest of the gang?" 

"Oh, uh..." Lance stumbles with his words, chewing on his lips nervously. "Well... Shiro wanted to sleep and Hunk's experimenting with more food and Pidge, well you know Pidge, she's just playing around with her toys and stuff and uh, the Princess and Coran were busy! So yeah, it's just the two of us. A damn shame huh? I mean, I have to suffer you all alone."

Lance suddenly lies down, looking right up and through the ceiling and Keith follows his example, laying close but not too close, wishing he could lay so much closer, like when they sleep. His lips twitch and he allows a small smile he hopes Lance doesn't notice. 

"A shame indeed." 

They wait for a while in weird silence, but nothing happens. 

"Well, this is boring," Lance grumbles, playing with his jacket zipper. 

"Maybe Coran got the timings wrong?" 

Lance gasps. "Of course! I mean, the guy can't count to save his life. Ugh, we should've come like three hours later, what are we doing here-"

"Lance."

"-and I'm sorry I'm wasting your precious time when you could be getting your ass kicked by a droid, I'm sure that's so much-"

"Lance." 

"-and I just really wanted to see-"

"LANCE." 

"WHAT?" 

Keith grips his chin and tilts his head up. Lance's eyes follow the path of one meteor before landing on another, and they watch it together. It's absolutely mesmerizing, a shower of light and heat cutting through the darkness of the galazy with it's dazzling shimmer at near unimaginable speeds. Their mouths are wide open and their eyes sparkle with excitement. 

"Amazing," Lance states, gasping when another huge meteor crashes down, leaving vague remnants of itself in its path. 

"It really is," Keith agrees, tracing the paths of the smaller stones with his eyes, marveling at the red heat in front of them. "It's so much more beautiful than I ever thought it would be." 

Keith doesn't realise Lance is looking at him when he whispers, "It really is." 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

"There was a meteor shower last night?" Pidge screeches when Keith mentions it offhandedly.

"Yeah, wait- you didn't know?" 

Pidge shakes their head, looking positively livid. "Of course I didn't! I would've loved to see it, oh man! Must've been gorgeous huh?" 

Strangely enough, an image of Lance presents itself to the forefront of Keith's mind and he smiles softly while uttering out a _Yeah, it was_. 

Pidge fixes him with a strange look before shrugging and turning to face their computer again. "Well, maybe next time?"

"Sure."

It takes him till late in the night, when he's laying in Lance's arms, to realise that Lance had supposedly invited Pidge. The implication of that makes his breath quicken and his palms sweat but he forces all of it out of his mind, simply because he knows hoping makes a terrible situation worse. Because hoping means there's a chance. 

And he hoped once and it destroyed him, so he knows, better than anyone, that he's not strong enough to hope again. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

When Coran barges into their room one day, four months, eight days, sixteen hours and thirty seconds into their arrangement, announcing that Lance's room is finally completely repaired, Keith feels like the ground caves beneath his feet. He feels the same sensation that he does when he floats in zero-gravity creep up his spine except he wants to throw up instead of laugh in glee. 

Lance looks surprised, but flashes Coran a smile and a thumbs up. "Thanks man! I almost forgot I had my own room." 

For a moment, Keith had forgotten too. That they weren't roommates, that they each had a unit to themselves, that them being together and coexisting the way they did wasn't normal, not in the slightest. 

The room is shrouded in a heavy silence when Coran leaves. Keith's sitting on the bed, head resting on his knees, a book propped up by his legs. Lance is seated on the desk chair, fiddling with something. He pushes it aside eventually and gets up, groaning when he stretches and the bones click back in place. 

"Well, I should start packing right?" 

Keith nods mutely, sure that his voice would betray him if he tried to say anything. Lance trudges towards their- _Keith's_ closet and starts pulling his stuff out, humming under his breath. It's tuneless but soothing, the way Lance's presence has become. He's still annoying and a massive pain, cocky and flirtatious and oh so foolish, and yet he's Lance. The Lance Keith likes. The Lance Keith wants to kiss and touch and cuddle with despite how freaking annoying he is. The Lance he doesn't want leaving his room, taking his warmth and brightness with him. 

"-ay." 

Lance blinks and looks at him strangely. "You say something?"

Keith swallows and glances up to stare at him. He can taste a _Nothing_ on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back, because it's now or never. He didn't hope, he promised himself he wouldn't, but Lance needed to know. Lance needed to know how much he affected Keith aside from the constant rise in blood pressure and the need to react violently by smashing his, Lance's or both their heads against a wall. He needed to know.

Plucking the book off his legs, Keith shuts it and places it beside him before sliding off the bed and standing to his full height. Lance is slightly taller than him, which Keith resents, but his shoulders are the perfect height for Keith to lay his head on and he always has a nice view of his back and they just fit so well. 

" _Stay_." 

His voice is clear, not echoing the gut wrenching nervousness echoing throughout his mind. He wants to run away, he wants to take it back, he wants to punch Lance and he wants to kiss him. 

He acknowledges that his mind has gone temporarily insane. 

Lance just looks confused and mildly shocked. "Huh? Wait, weren't you waiting to kick me out?"

"Then why would I ask you to stay?" Keith explodes, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side. 

"I don't know, cause you're masochistic? And weird? Maybe both?" Lance shoots back, looking worried, confused and even a bit hurt. 

Keith glances away, staring at the spotless ground. "I'm not an M. If anything, I like seeing _you_ in pain."

He looks up and sees Lance roll his eyes. "I know, I've met you. Too many times for my liking, might I add."  
They're arguing as always, and yet there's no heat in the words they exchange, no malice. Lance's lips twitch and he smiles hesitantly, and Keith swallows before returning it with an unsure one of his own. 

Lance slowly walks to where Keith is bolted to the ground, halting just shy of him. He reaches out slowly, tentatively, always the braver one, always the one to do stupid things and take stupid risks and smile at a loss or celebrate a victory. He grabs Keith's cold hands in his warm ones and draws tiny circles with his thumb on the back of Keith's palm. 

"Keith," he says, voice a hoarse whisper that sounds strangely intimate, "did you mean it? When you asked me to stay, did, did you mean it? Or was it some kinda joke?" 

Keith stares at their hands, pushing his pinky up and lightly brushing it against the soft skin of Lance's palm. "Yeah." 

"Yeah what?" 

"I, um, I meant it." Keith refuses to acknowledge just how red his cheeks must be. His only consolation? Lance looks just as bad, maybe even worse. It gets him to smile even when the only thing he really wants to do and crawl under a rock and hide. 

Lance moves in just a tiny bit closer, invading more of Keith's space and Keith lets him because obviously he's gone senile and soft. 

"And uh, correct me if I'm wrong," Lance says, sliding his fingers through Keith's and slotting their palms together, "but you um, you like me right?" 

Keith response is practically a reflex. "Well, I don't hate you."

Lance's laugh is warm, soft, a gentle shudder of his body against Keith's. There's a smile dancing on Keith's lips as well, tiny but there. 

"Well, I like you," Lance declares, bold and ever so cocky, even when his hands are shaking in Keith's. "And not the way I like Pidge or Hunk. I really like you. Like, I think about your stupid mullet and the small pout on your lips when you read and how badass you look when you fight and the sweat that drips down the side of your face and-" Lance's eyes widen and his blush magnifies. "I said that out loud, didn't I? Oh my god, Keith, push me off this ship, please. Just push me off and let me float in outer space or something oh shit-"

"Lance," Keith cuts in, his other hand palming Lance's cheek, "shut up."

"Yeah ok," Lance agrees easily, leaning into the touch. 

Keith lets his thumb trace the line of Lance's cheek bone before asking, "So you'll stay?" 

Lance smiles lazily, "Nope." 

Keith's hand freezes and he pulls away instinctively, as if burned. Lance's hand firmly holding his is the only thing keeping him from rushing to the training room and battling a few rounds with a level 4 gladiator to vent out his frustration and sorrow. 

"Stop thinking so hard, you'll give yourself a headache," Lance says, gently flicking Keith on the forehead. Keith yelps and rubs the spot, shooting Lance a glare. 

"Look, think about it alright? This room is built for one person. It barely fits all our stuff together, and I think we both need our space sometimes, you know? So I was thinking I'll move back to my room and we'll take turns sleeping over in each other's rooms."

Keith slumps into Lance, startled by how quick his heart is hammering in his chest. "And who says I wanna sleep next to you from now till the unforeseeable future?" 

Lance chuckles, fingers squeezing Keith's gently. "Your inner asshole is showing." 

"Yeah well, at least I'm not an asshole all the time." 

Lance whistles appreciatively. "Ok, that was a decent one." 

Keith leans back and simply stares at Lance's face, at the curve of his jaw and the glow of his skin and the crinkles around his eyes. He's far more attractive than one would give him credit for, though he's probably something of an acquired taste. A taste Keith has grown to love and appreciate so much. 

"Keith." Lance's voice is serious, and Keith makes notes of how his serious tone is kinda sorta _super_ sexy. "Can I-" 

" _Attention all paladins_ ," Allura's voice blares through the speakers just as the alarms go off and the room is bathed in red, " _please report to the main room immediately. I repeat, please report to the main room immediately. We have a situation._ " 

Keith turns to face the door, and he stumbles a bit when Lance tugs him back, pulling him right into this chest. It's a nice chest, firm and packed with lean muscles that feel so solid beneath Keith's finger tips and he bites back the urge to bury his head into the flesh. 

"Keith," Lance says once again, voice a mere whisper against his ear, "when we're back, I'm going to kiss you." Lance's ear is the colour of sunripe tomatoes. 

He lets go and Keith simply stares at him before remembering to nod, and Lance flashes him a brilliant smile, a faint pink hue still tinting those cheeks. He moves past Keith and runs towards the door. 

"Last one there is a mega loser!" 

Keith smiles ferociously as he readies himself to race Lance and wipe the floor with his ass. Maybe he'll smack it while he passes him. Why? Because he can. 

"You're on."

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make me happy! thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> || [writing tumblr](http://qitwrites.tumblr.com) || personal tumblr || [twitter](https://twitter.com/qita_nya?lang=en) ||


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